


Dress Code

by xenosaurus



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8812186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenosaurus/pseuds/xenosaurus
Summary: Jessie's vault suit is a customized, broken-in mess.  The suits in Vault 81 are... different, to say the least.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I sleepily edited this after working eight hours in a toy store in December. Please excuse any mistakes, I am but a shell of the woman I once was.

When you spend all day, every day with somebody, you're bound to start using them as a reference point.

It's certainly happened for MacCready since he started traveling with Jessie. He's internalized all of her little cues; this smile means everything is fine, that one means she's lying through her teeth. He's shifted his jokes towards the kinds that make her laugh hardest, and he knows how soon they're going to rest based on her body language alone.

They work well together, and MacCready feels as safe as he ever has now that she's a stable part of his life.

That said, running into vault dwellers who are nothing like her is now an _extremely_ jarring experience. Jessie's vault suit is a customized, broken-in mess. It's been taken apart and sewn into a proper top and bottom, so she can take a piss without removing her "entire goddamn fucking kit". Her words, not his. It has blood stains and scorch marks and strapped-on bits stolen from raiders. Her suit is as filthy and repurposed as anything else in the wasteland.

The suits in Vault 81 are... _different_ , to say the least. They're all washed in the same softening laundry detergents and no effort has ever been made to reinforce them. It feels _wrong_.

"Why does _everything_ smell like lemons on steroids?" MacCready mutters to Jessie. They've just finished a tour of the vault. Being shown around by a kid was uncomfortably like being in Little Lamplight, but at least they can eat now that it's over.

"I think they're cleaning the whole place with industrial-strength disinfectant. Bathrooms in my high school smelled like this."

"It's burning out my sinuses," MacCready complains, which makes Jessie snort into her vegetable stir fry.

"Bet you ten caps none of them even notice it," She says. "You're just _sensitive_."

"Shut up and eat your fu-- _stupid_ carrots."

Jessie laughs and knocks their feet together under the table.

"They taste weird. Guess I got used to the mutant versions," She says, spearing a chunk of vegetable with her fork. "Or maybe the mutant version's just better. Like how mirelurk is way better than lobster."

"Okay, no, mirelurk is awful. You just dip it in butter. Anything is good dipped in butter."

"We used to put butter on lobster too," Jessie says through a mouthful of veggie. MacCready makes an incredulous noise.

"Was there anything you _didn't_ put butter on?"

"As if you wouldn't do the same thing if there was enough butter to pull it off," Jessie argues, grinning. "Fat, sugar, salt, the true loves of human society."

She isn't wrong.

"You're spoiled all to hell," He says.

"Hey, I only had lobster _once_. That was rich people food."

"Wait, I thought you had to pay to get into one of these things?" MacCready asks, gesturing vaguely to the vault they're in. "How'd you afford it?"

He knows about the cryo, and the baby she's looking for, and even quite a bit about her late husband, but he struggles to imagine her before the war. Was she wealthy, by the old standards?

"Military family. We just had to sign up, no payment required," She explains through a mouthful of stir fry. "It wasn't like we were _broke_ or anything, but I had student loans and the military didn't pay that well."

"You needed to get loans to be a _student_?"

"Yeah, and mine died with society as a whole, so we're not going to talk about them."

"What if a ghoul comes around to collect?"

"Robert Joseph MacCready, do not mock my nightmares," Jessie hisses, kicking him playfully under the table.

" _That's_ your nightmare? Even after the mirelurk queen?"

"Fuck you, that thing went down _easy_!" Jessie protests, grinning. This is an old argument, long since transformed into a joke.

"What fight do _you_ remember?"

"The one where I kicked ass!"

"You mean the one where you got a concussion?"

"Maybe you were the one with the concussion if you don't remember me murdering the shit out of that thing."

"Which one of us has the scar on their--"

MacCready cuts himself off, abruptly noticing that they've gained an audience. Three kids and one adult are visibly eavesdropping, and none of them have the sense to hide it properly when they're noticed. The Little Lamplight in him thinks ' _amateurs_ '.

Jessie glances around when MacCready stops talking. Her wild grin downshifts into something more polite.

"Can we help you folks with something?" She asks, the very picture of good manners.

"I want to hear the story!" One of the kids blurts out, no shame at all.

"Do mirelurks really have queens? Like ants?" Another asks, and Jessie chuckles. MacCready sighs and prepares himself for a very inaccurate retelling.

*

"You know, I've seen you kill deathclaws and I think that story was more impressive. You made it sound like we knew what we were doing."

Jessie throws a shoe at him.

They'd excused themselves after dinner, retreating to their temporary guest quarters. It's easier to breathe here, and not just because the chemical lemon scent is weaker. It's hard to relax surrounded by identically dressed people who feel like they're from another world.

Ironically, the woman currently peeling off a grimy, dismantled vault suit actually is from another world, but he feels completely at home with her.

"Don't be a smartass, what kid wants to hear about the time the big tough wastelander got a head wound?"

"Yeah, yeah," MacCready says dismissively, sitting down on the bed to unlace his boots. Jessie is already mostly naked, scratching idly at the half-healed sunburn on her cheek. The artificial light makes every mark on her skin pop; a puffy cesarean scar, her endless bruises and scrapes, the stretch marks on her stomach, thighs, and breasts. Her body is lived in. Against the sterility of the vault, she's even more attractive than usual. 

Jessie joins him on the bed. MacCready leans over and kisses her bare shoulder. She doesn't say anything, just sets a hand on the back of his neck. They stay like that for a few moments of peaceful quiet, until Jessie breaks the silence.

"Wanna makeout in the shower?"

MacCready laughs, startled.

" _Christ_ , Jessie."

"Well?" She asks, gently knocking their shoulders together. MacCready snorts and returns the gesture.

"Yeah, sure," He says. "Give me a second to get undressed."

"Hurry up, then," She gives him a kiss on the cheek before getting to her feet. It only takes her a moment to wiggle out of her underwear, and then she's off to the bathroom.

By the time MacCready catches up with her, she has the water running. She's washing the grime from her hair with familiar gusto.

"Incoming," He says, and she steps back to give him enough space to join her. The brown-white suds from the shampoo are dangerously close to her eyes, but she opens them to grin at him.

"You take too long to get naked," She teases, tipping her head back to rinse her hair.

"I grew up in a cave; generally, we tried to keep our clothes _on_."

"I've given you plenty of practice in the past month alone," Jessie insists, wiggling damp eyebrows in his direction.

"Shut up," MacCready says affectionately. Jessie tugs him under the water, laughing when he moans in pleasure. It's so _warm_.

"You were right, I think," Jessie says, squirting soap into her palm while he's enjoying the hot water.

"About what?" MacCready asks. She runs her soapy hands down his chest, which seems to be some combination of washing and foreplay. The way she's smiling at him suggests mischief.

"I _am_ spoiled."

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [xenosaurus](http://xenosaurus.tumblr.com)!


End file.
